Just Smoke
by BehindItAll
Summary: Bellamy is scrambling to keep it together after Clarke abandons him, scrambling to survive without her. Gina is just simply trying to survive. Set after S2.
1. Chapter 1

Gina crams two more pieces of scrap metal into the box in front of her. She flips one over in her hand, studying the wires sprouting from the frame. These shards of steel seem useless, but in the hands of the right person they can be filed into a weapon or molded into a shovel or curved into a cup. In the right hands they can become anything.

Except Gina's hands aren't anything special.

She was never the best in her farming classes and her brain isn't wired to do engineering or mechanical work. She thought she'd finally found her niche with Abigail in the medical wing, but the first time she witnessed surgery she ended up on the floor. Gina wasn't first at anything, though she was never last either. She drifted through life on the Ark as invisible as possible, following the rules, keeping the status quo and, even now, as she stands in the mess hall of Arkadia sorting chunks of metal, she's a small, quiet piece of the patchwork society stitched together by Kane and Abigail.

Gina checks her watch. Twenty minutes until the next scavenging mission. Mount Weather has everything they'll ever need. It has everything they'll never need too. Paintings, chandeliers, a piano. Those Mountain Men tried to create a fairytale out of the apocalypse. Locked away from the devastation around them, they've never starved for oxygen or fought back tears because it'd be a senseless waste of water. But their makeshift utopia wasn't enough for them. They wanted more. Arkadia paid the price.

Clarke did the right thing.

"Team two to the loading station." Kane's voice crackles over the com.

Gina tosses the gasket she'd been holding onto the table. She grabs her backpack and picks up the walkie-talkie. Her boots thump against the metal grates of the Arks floor, or what's left of it since the crash landing. She breathes in the stale air from the hallways and it takes her back to a month ago when she was still in space orbiting the Earth. In another month or so the Ark will air out and her last connection to her parents will be lost.

"Five minutes until departure," a man calls over the walkie.

Gina dabs her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. Like Nate says, you can't change the past.

A loud roar from one of the Rovers fills the loading bay and Gina grits her teeth as it vibrates in her eardrums. It's such an obnoxiously odd sound, a car engine. Nate revs the motor again. He thinks it's funny. Gina thinks he's an idiot.

She climbs into the passenger seat beside him and pulls the key from the ignition.

"You're not authorized to have those," Nate says, pointing to the furry, rabbit foot keychain.

"You _shouldn't_ be authorized to have these." Gina jiggles them in front of his face.

"I'm the best damn driver on this planet."

"That's debatable."

"Name one person you'd rather have in this seat."

"Raven, Bellamy, Monty…"

"What about me?" Bellamy says climbing into the back of the Rover. He sits down positioning his gun between his legs. The rest of the security detail files into their seats next to him.

"Nothing," Gina says, lowering her head so her curls fall in front of her eyes. "I'm just expressing my confidence in Nate as our chauffeur."

"That's what I thought." Nate snatches the keys from Gina's hand. "Sit back and enjoy the ride, Martin."

"Hold on." Gina snaps open a bag she snatched from the kitchen. With Nate driving there's a good chance breakfast will come back up. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Really? A vomit bag?" Nate shifts the Rover into gear. "I'm not that bad."

"That's debatable."

The Rover rolls forward along the smooth dirt path of Arkadia. It'll be a while before they get to Mount Weather and Gina's counting on it. She closes her eyes, relaxing against the faded, cracked leather of the seat. A good night's sleep on the ground is hard to come by. There's too many things down here to kill you. At least on the Ark, your worst fears were being floated or oxygen deprivation, both of them offering a quick, painless death. The grounders, though they offer death as well, are sure to torture you.

She's heard the stories. She's lived them through the words whispered between sips of alcohol and the crackling of fire. Some deaths, such as those taken in the midst of battle, are quick, bloody moments in time. A spear to the heart. A knife to the jugular. A spring loaded trap. In these instances, the agony is not in the act itself but in the seconds leading up to it. Whether it's Nathan or Jasper or Harper or anyone else of the 100 recounting what happened in the first few days back on Earth, there's always a thick, palpable panic tugging at their voice. And it's that same panic that was placed there by the grounders during those so-called quick, bloody moments.

But that's not what worries Gina the most. Her fears have shifted from what would happen if she got caught snagging an extra slice of bread on the Ark to what would happen if the grounders ever got their hands on her. Like really got their hands on her.

She's been around the campfire when Murphy would mumble about his time spent in the Grounder's camp. How they beat him and cut him and burned his skin. She's seen Jasper's scar from where they strung him up in a tree, patched his wounds, and left him for whatever animal wanted a human snack. Gina's not worried about the punishments dished out inside of Arkadia's walls. She can handle those. It's the torment beyond the gates that draws a cold sweat from her pores.

Gina drifts in and out of consciousness, letting herself nudge up against her dreams before pulling back. It's not enough to satisfy the ache in her eyes or lift the fog floating through her brain, but this isn't a world of rest. That much she's learned.

Twenty minutes later, and fifteen minutes too soon, Gina jolts awake, her head slamming into the dashboard as the Rover jerks to a stop. Her head throbs and pounds with a pain so bright she can almost taste it. She smells it too, a harsh metallic zing burning its way up her nostrils and down her throat. Gina's never been in a fight before, never caught a punch to the face, but she's almost certain this is what it feels like.

A hand grips her shoulder, shaking her and tugging her, rattling her already scrambled thoughts. Gina looks to her left, blinking fast to clear the tears welling in her eyes. Nate yells something at her. She can't make it out above the panic rising from her team in the back. They load their guns, the distinctive clicks of the ammo cartridges sliding into place echo one another in the confined space. Bellamy shouts orders to his men and somehow they hear him.

Nate shoves a gun towards Gina and she takes it from him. It's awkward in her hands. The only time she's ever held one was in weapons training.

"Gina," Bellamy calls from the back of the Rover.

She twists around in her seat to look at him. The throbbing in her head doesn't abate.

"It's safer for you back here," he says.

"You tell me that now?" Gina says, pointing to her busted nose.

Bellamy smirks, but a clink outside the Rover wipes it away. "Move it. Now."

Gina doesn't argue, crawling between the seats and sitting down on the cold metal floorboard. The back of the Rover's been modified to allow two benches on either side. With all the guys of the security detail crammed into the back there's no room for her on the benches. She glances around, finding that the barrels of her friend's guns are mostly angled towards the floor, right where she just so happens to be sitting. One twitchy finger and it's all over.

She pushes away the one closest to her. "Mind pointing that thing somewhere else?"

"Sorry," the kid says, aiming the gun towards the roof.

"You two, cover me when the doors open." Bellamy says pointing to the guys closest to the door. "And you three, follow after me. Shoot anyone not with us. And Gina…" he looks at her. Pieces of brown, curly hair fall just above his eyebrows, darkening the color of his eyes and Gina knows he's afraid. Not of the Grounders outside, but of the real chance he'll lose another friend. "Don't die"

Gina nods, knowing it's a promise she might not be able to keep.

Bellamy unlatches the doors and kicks them open, his gun firing off a few rounds before Gina can feel the fresh air against her skin. He jumps out and the team follows him. A Grounder's head rams through the windshield, a boy, younger than anyone on Gina's team. Nate's standing behind him, his chest heaving, a deep gash gleaming on his right arm. The glass has cut slits into the Grounder's face, but he keeps fighting, pushing and pulling, trying to pry himself free. Nate approaches the boy, lifting himself onto the hood of the Rover. Gina hears a crunch, not a twig breaking type crunch, but a sickening sound that causes Gina's bones to vibrate and her stomach to lurch. The Grounder's head falls slack.

Gina scurries away from his body, tumbling out the back of the Rover and onto the rocky dirt path. She's never seen a dead body. Not up close and personal. And definitely not so close that she could see the faint smudges of war paint around his eyes, or smell the blood dripping from his mouth, or hear the wheeze of his final breath rattling through his windpipe. Her body trembles. The gun in her shaking hand clinks against the metal of her belt buckle. Her first instinct is to drop it, her second is to keep it close.

Someone grabs her arm, dragging her to her feet. Gina twists away, aiming her trembling gun at whoever had her. Bellamy yanks her into his chest and an arrow zips by her head. She feels Bellamy raising his arm and hears the shots being fired off, but she refuses to look up. Instead she stares at the ground with her forehead resting against his collarbone and her hand, the one holding the gun, hanging limp by her side.

"I almost shot you," she says.

"But you didn't," he wraps one arm around her in a quick hug. "Now, come on."

He takes her hand, sneaking her around the perimeter of the fight. They crouch down in front of the Rover, their bodies hidden by it's bulky frame. Bellamy leans in close.

"Okay, head that way," he points in the direction they had came. "Don't stop until you get to camp. Let them know what happened."

"Are you insane?" Gina can't believe what she's hearing. Is he really suggesting she abandon them and run off into the woods? She narrows her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Get back to Arkadia. Tell Kane what happened." Bellamy's eyes soften. "Please."

What he doesn't say is "tell Octavia I'm sorry."

Two types of guilt sink in Gina's stomach. The first: the guilt of leaving her friends behind. The second: the guilt of not following Bellamy's orders. She's no warrior. She's no killer. But Bellamy is asking her to do the only thing she can do in this fight. He's asking her to run, to survive, to tell their story.

There's no telling who's going to win this battle. But as Gina sprints off into the forest, she gives Bellamy a nod. With every thud of her feet she promises Bellamy she'll survive. With each breath that leaves her lungs she promises that she won't stop running. She can't decide if she's running toward something or away from something.

From someone.


	2. Chapter 2

Gina's lungs burn and ache and scream for her to stop, but she wills her legs to keep moving. Low hanging tree branches whip across her cheeks and thorn-covered vines scratch her arms. These small, annoying pains are but a tiny blip on her radar in comparison to the cold sting spreading across her chest.

Gina races forward, her body being tested like never before. She has no idea how long it's been since she left Bellamy and her crew. Usually she wears a watch on her left arm, but today it sits on her bedside table. A whole lot of good that's doing. On the ark, in Earth skills class, there was a lesson on using the sun's position in the sky to tell time, but that's sort of hard to do when fleeing for your life. So, Gina's only unit of measure is the things she's left behind.

For the first twenty or so feet she could still make out the individual voices of her team, but they soon blended together, grounders and Arkadians alike, into a low garbled roar. A couple hundred feet more and that melted away too and all she was left with the pop, pop, pop of guns. One riverbed and two hills later, even the comforting echo of gunfire was swallowed by the woods and the lonely thud of her shoes has taken its place.

Her feet stumble and slide over moss covered rocks, decaying leaves, and damp roots.

 _Keep going, don't stop, keep going, don't stop_ , she chants in her head.

The muscles in her legs tremble. _Keep going_. Sweat slips down her back. _Don't stop_. Nausea coils inside her stomach. A stitch seizes in her side and she doubles over, her footsteps stuttering, throwing her off balance. Her arms swing out in wide arcs, but it's not enough to stop gravity's grip on her and she topples down an embankment, landing ass first into the creek below.

Gina doesn't get up immediately, stealing a few precious seconds to get her bearings and catch her breath. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as the cool, clear water trickles by. It soaks into her pants and wets the bottom of her shirt, soothing the exhausted muscles beneath them. Gina splashes her face, shivering when the water slips down her chest and between her breasts.

If she could erase the past and skip all the death and destruction, all the battles and loss, and start her new life on Earth right here, right now she would. This is what she imagined life on Earth to be like. She used to dream of running her fingers over the bark of a tree instead of a glossy picture in a book. She'd wonder what it would be like to feel the grass tickling her toes instead of the Ark's bolted, hard, metal floors. She'd picture herself staring up at the stars and the moon, trying to pick out the constellations instead of being trapped among them. She'd created a world she couldn't wait to be apart of and now that she's here, she would give it up in a heartbeat just to get back those peaceful imaginations.

What's the point when life won't stop long enough to enjoy any of it? It's not only today, but its every day since the crash landing. There's always an impending attack. A life on the line. Some new threat lurking around the corner. It's a never ending maze and all Gina wants to do is to find a secret door to escape through.

A rabbit hops along the creek, at the water's edge, towards Gina. She's spent too long sulking and should really start moving again, but she can't bring herself to do it yet. She blames it on the rabbit, not wanting to scare him off. The small animal looks up at her, his nose wiggling up and down, one brown foot hovering over the ground in case he has to make a quick escape. His ears twitch and his little body stiffens. Gina's on alert too. The rabbit darts off, disappearing into a thicket and Gina's on her feet.

Two grounders emerge from behind the trees, blocking the path back to Arkadia. Gina spins around, racing off in the opposite direction. She zigs and zags between the trees, trying to make her body as difficult a target as possible. The grounders split up, one taking the left side and the other persuing her on the right. She tries to trick them, making split second decisions to her trajectory, but they stick with her.

Gina realizes too late their plan. They've been funneling her towards something and as the edge of the woods opens up, giving way to dirt and rock, she sees what that something is.

A cliff.

She skids to a stop, whirling around, her eyes searching for an escape route but the ledge of the cliff that Gina stands on has narrowed out and they've got her cornered. Gina knows they've won. They know they've won, though you'd never know it by the stone cold look on there faces.

 _At least show a little emotion_ , Gina thinks.

It's the wrong time to be focusing on something so moot, but it keeps her mind off the jagged ledge of the cliff she's inching towards and the calm, glasslike lake below.

"Teik the fall frag em op" the grounder with the bushy red beard on Gina's left says.

His companion, who is much younger than he, nods. They press forward, spears pointed towards Gina's abdomen. She inches backwards, the heels of her shoes scrubbing against dirt and rock.

"Please, don't do this," Gina begs. Her hands tremble as she stretches them out in front of her.

The young one jabs his spear at her.

Should she fight? Should she jump? Should she try to make a break for it? Gina's mind kicks into gear, working the odds of each plan of action. Taking on the two in hand-to-hand combat would be a death sentence. Trying to run for it would end in hand-to-hand combat and thus a death sentence. But, jumping…jumping may be her best chance at survival. That is, if lucks on her side and the lake below is deeper than a few feet.

Gina jumps. She's flying and falling, sailing through the sky, the wind grasping at her hair, her coat, grazing her ankles. Tears slide across her temples, the rush of the air forcing them out. She plunges into the water, sinking deeper and deeper. She kicks and claws her way to the surface, sputtering as she gulps down air.

 _Hell of a first swim_ , she says to herself.

Gina paddles to the lake's edge and drags herself out. She rolls onto her back her eyes fixed on the cliff above. Two tiny specks peer over. One of them launches something through the air and a few seconds later a spear lodges itself into the ground beside Gina. She rolls to the left and pulls herself to her feet, running for cover. A boulder the size of the rover hides her from the grounders above. The sky blazes orange and red, the setting sun igniting fire to the clouds. It'll be night soon and the risk of trekking through the woods, through grounder territory, isn't one she's willing to take.

A waterfall feeds into the lake and, behind a curtain of water, Gina spots the edge of what looks like a cave. She follows the curve of the rocks until she can feel the splash of the water against her face. Her fingers brush the rough surface until they curve over the lip of the cave's opening.

"Home sweet home," she whispers to herself as she steps into the mouth of the cave.

It's dark and damp, smelling like wet moss and not much larger than her old room on the ark. She hugs herself, attempting to keep out the cold working it's way through her wet clothes. She listens to the water as fatigue takes her over. Her eyes drift shut, her body no longer possessing the strength to keep them open, and sleep takes her over.

Gina's hot. Too hot compared to the cold she'd fallen asleep to. Her eyes snap open and she squints against the brightness of the fire snapping and popping at the back of the cave. She blinks quickly, trying to clear the spots from her vision, taking inventory of the things she knows for sure. The muscles in her back ache. Her feet are still soaked and her toes are probably shriveled and water logged. There's something soft under her head and it smells of mint soap and gunpowder.

She cracks open her eyes again. A figure sits hunched over on the opposite side of the cave. Dark curly hair. Lean, muscular torso. Gina lays in shock. No as much shock as if she'd woken up to the grounders dragging her off to who knows where, but shock all the same. He came back for her.

 _Not that I needed him to_ , she thinks immediately, but then the more mentally stable part of her brain kicks in and says, _thank goodness_.

"Are you hurt?" Bellamy asks.

"How'd you know I was awake?"

"You stopped snoring."

"I do not snore."

"Are you hurt?" he asks again, holding a bandage to his abdomen. He sucks in a breath as he pours water over the gash.

"I'm fine." Gina says, shifting to her side. "But you look like you've seen better days."

"Better is a matter of opinion."

Shadows dance on the walls of the cave, their music the crackling of the fire. Gina glances from the flames to the waterfall and back.

"Should we put out the fire?" she asks.

"No point," Bellamy says. "They already know where we are. The fire doesn't change that."

"Good to know we're sitting ducks."

Gina holds up her hands and turns her eyes towards the sheet of water. She watches as her shadow puppet bird flaps across the glass like surface. Her fingers twist and intertwine and dog pops up on her makeshift wall.

"O and I used to do that."

"Yea?"

"When we were little, I'd get a flashlight and we'd sit on the floor making shadow puppets all day. All night too sometimes." He watches as Gina transforms the dog in to a rabbit. He smiles. A genuine, perfect smile. "My favorite was the elephant."

"I don't know that one."

"Here," he scoots forward, sliding in beside Gina. He takes her hands in his and moves her fingers, forming the trunk and the tusk. "Like that."

He lifts her hands up to the light and an elephant's shape appears on the water. But Gina isn't looking at the image, she's looking at Bellamy. She's watching the way the fire lights up his eyes, the way his jaw moves when he smiles, the way his breathing quickens when she rubs her thumb against his.

"Why are you here?" Gina asks.

"You weren't at the camp and I sent you off into the woods. I felt responsible." He releases her hands. "I didn't want your death on my shoulders."

Gina's heart sinks and she's not sure why. She's got not attachments to him. Sure, he's nice to look at and he's got that badass way about him, but he's also crass and he likes to keep himself isolated.

Especially since Clarke left.

Gina tells herself she's not attracted to him, but even the thought feels like a lie. A lie she wouldn't mind believing.

*** Teik the fall frag em op = let the fall kill her


	3. Chapter 3

So, what's your story?" Gina asks, stepping into a squishy patch of dirt. Her shoe leaves an imprint and she hesitates, contemplating brushing it away, but Bellamy's so far ahead she has to rush to keep up.

"You know my story and so does everyone else," Bellamy replies, his eyes scanning the horizon. He's been doing it their whole trip back. He's also been trying to hide the subtle limp affecting his right side.

 _Probably from the stomach wound_ , Gina decides, brushing off his crabbiness yet again.

Bellamy's been quiet ever since they left the cave. He's been more distant, too. Back in the cave, behind the cover of the waterfall, Bellamy had let his guard down, shedding a piece of the invisible armor he uses to survive in this deranged world. Though, he wasn't completely vulnerable, it was enough for Gina to catch a glimpse of the person beneath the mask. But once they stepped out into the sunlight, that piece of armor slid back into place and Bellamy, the battle hardened, military man returned. And he brought one heck of a crappy attitude along with him.

"No, I mean what's the whole story? I already know about how you hid Octavia and how your mom got floated," Bellamy's fingers tighten around the grip of his rifle. "Because of it," Gina continues. "But what about all the stuff in between?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Bellamy says.

"And you've avoided all of them."

Bellamy angles his head towards Gina. "You want a history lesson on my life?"

"Sure, why not? We have lots of time," Gina sweeps her hands out in front of her, motioning towards the miles of woods left to navigate. Miles and miles of booby trap infested woods. It's the main reason she keeps trying to pull a conversation out of him. She needs the distraction.

Bellamy sighs. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"This," he points to himself then to Gina. "I don't do chats. I don't do emotions. What I do do is survive."

Gina snorts.

Bellamy narrows his eyes. "What?"

"You said..." Gina starts but stops herself as she takes in his harsh, cold gaze.

It's the same look she'd get during her classes on the Ark when she would crack a joke or use sarcasm at the wrong time. A sense of humor was a rarity in space and her teachers didn't appreciate it. It'd earned her way too many you-have-so-much-potential speeches, but, you know what, maybe a good laugh is what that death trap needed more of. Bellamy sure as Hell needs a good dose of it.

"Lighten up," Gina says, stomping past him.

"Maybe you should be more serious," Bellamy shoots back.

Gina freezes, the barricade holding back the whirlwind of frustration and anger and fear inside her rattling. He's not responsible for the anger and fear. That's beyond both of their control and she knows that, but she refuses to stand there and subject herself to the changing winds of his mood any longer.

"You have friends," Gina says, spinning around, her hands on her hips. "Lots of them. So, you can drop the loner act."

Bellamy doesn't say anything, he only watches her, his eyes calculating and scrutinizing. The barrel of the gun points at the ground, the rifle all but forgotten in his hands.

"Admit it, Bellamy. You're scared," Gina says, her voice edged with the sharpness of truth.

"Of course, I'm scared," he says. "We're out in the open, in grounder territory, and you're huffing and puffing and throwing a tantrum like a child. There's no telling how many arrows we have pointed at us."

"No, you're afraid of not being good enough. You're scared that if you let someone get close, they'll see you for who you really are. That's why you don't want friends."

Bellamy doesn't take the bait. Instead, he lets out a little huff of a laugh and props himself against the butt of the gun. "But I do have friends. Remember?"

"You're right," Gina agrees and Bellamy thinks he's won the argument, but his triumphant smirk fades as she continues, "and I'm sure you'd do anything for them. Fight, steal, kill, avenge. Whatever they need, you, Mr. Bellamy Blake, the camp hero, will get done. But do they know how much you toss and turn in your sleep? Do they see the thousand yard stare you get when you're alone? Have they heard the apologies you whisper when you think no one's listening?"

Bellamy's jaw clenches and he straightens his body, making it stiff and rigid. To anyone else he'd be intimidating. To Gina he's a man in pain. His silence is the only answer she needs.

"The cave had great acoustics," Gina explains. Bellamy lifts his chin and the subtle movement sends chills down Gina's arms. "The others may not know what you're going through, but I do. I get it."

"You get it?" he repeats and the rough edge in his voice scrapes against Gina's eardrums. "How could you possibly get it? You have no idea ¾"

"I'm just trying to help," Gina says, the words tumbling out of her mouth so quick she couldn't stop them if she wanted to.

"I don't need your help."

"You need something."

"I had Clarke," he shouts.

"But she's not here," Gina mumbles to the patch of leaves in front of her feet. She can't bring herself to look at him.

"Exactly, she's not here," he growls and the rumble in his throat resonates in Gina's chest. "She deserted us because she couldn't handle it. She walked out on us… she walked out on me, left me behind to clean up the mess and I'm supposed to be okay with that?"

"It's not fair."

"Fair?" A cynical laugh escapes Bellamy. "Nothing in this world is fair, Gina. Just ask Jasper. Ask Raven. Ask Lincoln."

Bellamy slings his gun to the ground and marches off towards a large hickory tree. He takes a heaving breath, resting his forehead against the trunk. Gina watches his shoulders rise and fall until the staggered gasps even out. He slams his fist against the rough bark.

Gina waits as the tense seconds pass, her hands shoved into the back pockets of her pants. It seems like hours pass before he speaks again.

"You wanna know the truth?" He asks, but Gina remains silent. "Yes, I'm afraid. For all the reasons you mentioned. And yes, I hide it. But not because I'm ashamed, but because what good would it do if they knew? They have their pain and I have mine. It's the way things have to be for all of us to survive."

"It'll tear you apart," Gina says, speaking from experience.

Bellamy straightens his jacket, wipes his face, and shakes the tension out of his arms. He turns to face Gina, his eyes puffy and rimmed with red.

"Not today," he says, setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders and just like that, the well-practiced, hard lined mask he uses to fool the outside world is back in place.

Bellamy picks up the gun and walks past Gina. There's a waver to his stride as if the burden he's carrying has gotten to be more than he can manage. Bellamy's a stubborn son of a bitch, but even the most strong-willed have their limits and Gina worries he's getting close to his.

"Not today," Gina repeats following after him, but she's not so sure she believes it.

"Wow, you smell," Raven says, sliding into the seat opposite Gina.

Gina hasn't had a chance to shower since she returned to camp. She thought about it, but the growling, painfully hungry beast in her belly took precedence and waiting another twenty minutes to eat so she could shower didn't seem worth it.

"I'm getting to that," Gina says, chewing on a piece of meat. She's not sure what she's scarfing down and she doesn't care.

"Heard you had an eventful night," Raven says, flicking a few stray crumbs off the table.

Gina's eyes flit to Bellamy. He's standing across the room, giving a report of yesterday's outing to Kane. Abi's beside him, tugging at his shirt, trying to get a good look at the gash in his stomach. He swats her hands away. Gina quickly glances back to her plate, but Raven, being the perceptive girl she is, has already taken notice of the split second glance.

"Uh, oh," Raven says.

"What uh oh? There's no uh oh." Gina nibbles on a dinner roll. One glance at Bellamy and her appetite's completely gone.

"I saw you looking at him."

"Yea, so?"

"You're into him, aren't you?"

"No," Gina says.

"Yes, you are." Raven nudges Gina's leg under the table.

"I do not like him," Gina says, surprising herself by the conviction behind her words.

"Okay," Raven says, backing off. "Then, what is it?"

"I just don't get him. " Gina sets down the bread. "He's so confusing."

"Well, that's Bellamy Blake for you," Raven drums her fingers over the steel table, her hands always in motion. A sign of a good mechanic. "I don't think anyone's gonna crack that safe."

Gina agrees but a part of her feels she already has and she's not sure she likes what's inside.

"So, want to help me sort parts again today?" Raven asks, fidgeting in her seat. The metal of her leg brace clinks against the table's leg. "If I have to do it by myself again, I'll lost my mind."

"Sure," Gina says, standing. She picks up her tray. "We can lose our minds together."

"They way it should be." Raven swings out her bad leg then her good one. She pulls herself up and locks the brace in place. "But please, for the safety of those around you, take a shower."

"Gina, wait up," a voice calls from across the mess hall and Gina's stomach sinks.

Bellamy.

She ignores him, dumping her tray in the dirty bin, but he's beside her before she can make it out into the hall.

"What?" Gina asks. She'd meant for there to be more bite in her voice, but she couldn't muster up the energy to do it.

"Kane wants to speak with you later," Bellamy says. His gaze bounces around the room, taking in everything but her.

"Okay."

Gina starts to walk off, but Bellamy's strong hand latches on to her arm. Her eyes snap to his and he lets go.

"Can you leave out our…" he hesitates, lowering his voice, "talk?"

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"Good," Bellamy says, crossing his arms. "Then, I guess we're done here."

"Yeah," Gina says, stepping out into the main hall, but she's knows it's far from over.

She knows his secret. She knows the parts of himself he tries to keep hidden from the rest of camp. Above it all, Gina knows Bellamy Blake will do whatever it takes to keep his people alive. Even if it means his destruction.


End file.
